Life-changing decisions require a bit of bravery, stupidity, or both
My freelance copywriting journey started a looooong time ago. I know, I don’t look old enough 🤣
Isn’t it curious how our first passions stick with us throughout our lives? Language has been a love of mine from an early age; poems, puns, plays on words, mistyped subtitles, slang, and dialects. I’m here for it.
I have held several corporate jobs. I have worked hard and enjoyed varied work with great colleagues and the security of permanent contracts. But, if Covid taught us anything, it is carpe diem (or YOLO, for the kids).
So, one day, after years in the food and drink marketing industry, I finally seized it.
All the small things
Does your mum love to reminisce about you as a kid? My mum recalls how, aged around 18 months, I suddenly recited the whole alphabet from the back of the car and nearly caused her to crash.
As I got older, I would record ads on VHS and watch them back. Pointless facts became etched into my memory, like DFS having outlets in Darley Dale, Measham, and Droitwich. I have never had a particular interest in sofas. Or banks. The Lloyds bank phone number is also ingrained in my memory, from an ad from 30 years ago,
“Oh, a Tundred! Sever one, oh! Sever two, free!”
– 90s Lloyds TSB ad
Those copywriters pulled poetry and rhythm from the void.
I used to play a computer game called Monkey Island with my brother and my mum. My favourite bit was the ‘pen is mightier than the sword’ word battle between Guybrush Threepwood and zombie pirate LeChuck. To win the sword fight, you had to answer an insult with the appropriate insult. (Thank you for letting me recreate my childhood, Derby Computer Museum).
I was the weird kid who loved scrabble, spelling tests, and word searches. And, as an adult, I have taught my children at least nine synonyms for poo (you have to give the kids what they want).
Teen Spirit
I used to play a lot of sports in my teens, and I also wrote poetry. I wrote about what I saw and how I felt ‘in the moment’.
My English teacher, Mrs. Hooper, helped me to discover free verse, where I no longer worried about how the words came out (or what anyone else thought). I wrote for the joy of writing and kept it well-hidden from my brother. Obviously, a lot of it stank.
My grand plan was to write TV ads or otherwise pun-based headlines for The Sun when I grew up. My mum felt this was too niche and encouraged me to be more sensible.
Well, let me tell you, as a creative type, I felt a bit sensitive to that criticism. And as I am, allegedly, a competitive type, I was also a bit bloody-minded. So, like a wounded bear, I lumbered off to London to do an English degree and meet ad people.
London Calling
After a year as the university fundraising RAG week Creative Director and later RAG President, I started meeting a few ad agencies on the graduate milk round.
I muscled my way into a meeting at Euro RSCG Wnek Gosper (now Havas London) by emailing Mark Wnek with a cheesy Roses are Red poem. So glad I no longer have that email.
I produced an appalling entry for a D&AD real fur coats summer competition. As it turned out, hairy Fido Dido stick figures, quoting communist rhetoric have no place in the luxury goods market. Who knew?
Anyway, the advice from everyone was to start in freelance copywriting, paired with an Art Director (I took the feedback on my illustrations, thanks), then work for free in London for a few years.
“If you get lucky you will eventually get an expenses-covered gig!” they said.
The prospect of being unpaid in our most expensive and least-friendly city put me off advertising, and I fled back to the Midlands.
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road (hello corporate world)
I wish there had been someone like former lecturer Andrew Boulton around at the time. He summed it up perfectly over on LinkedIn,
“If you’re a creative young person currently deciding what to do with your life I reckon it can unfold, generally speaking, in one of three ways.
One: your creative soul has led you to precisely the very thing you want to do with your time and skill/z and all is therefore sunshine and small cakes.
Two: you know that you want to do *something* creative with your future but you’re not sure what and finding out is proving trickier than persuading a zoo penguin to do something entertaining.
Third: and by far the worst, is when a creative future seems so uncertain and unattainable that you instead drift into some creatively oppressive profession and spend the rest of your life concealing your creativity as if it were the early signs of a poorly-timed werewolf transformation.
If you are in camp one, then you need absolutely nothing from me except a cheery wave as you glide assuredly into your bright and lucrative future. But for camps two, and especially three, I feel like I have a duty to point you urgently towards the life of an advertising or marketing creative.”
So I began my twenty-year career in food and drink, working across the midlands for some big names. I started on the chickens and knickers grad scheme for M&S, and then I got some sweet sales commissions at Mars and Thorntons. Next came solving drinking problems at Molson Coors and Refresco, and later in the pub trade at Greene King.
I was able to elbow my way into seasonal and brand campaigns, rebranding, innovation, brand guidelines, TOV, local marketing, sales presentations, video scripts, trade shows, voice-overs, packaging, promotions, collars, trade marketing, adversarial, product names, press ads, emails, food & drink menus, and new site launches.
The best bits of my job always involved writing. Getting promoted meant the writing should have been done by someone else – I was supposed to delegate. But NO ONE wanted to write, and I did.
There were no copywriters at Greene King, and even our agencies came up short on resources from time to time. My marketing manager colleagues’ brand plans often featured copywriting support on their wish lists for delivering their plans.
One day* I was trying to teach my son to ride his bike. I found myself talking calmly** about being a bit braver and having a go at more things. And it made me think – when was the last time I did something brave? There I was, in my pubby little comfort zone, making and proofreading menus, creating dish names and descriptors, email newsletters, and web copy.
All the while I regretted not following my dream of moving into freelance copywriting.
From a distance (remote freelance copywriting, geddit)
I started learning more about SEO and practising new techniques I could use in my writing. Then I signed up for an online copywriting course with CMP, to sharpen my pencil.
It didn’t take me long to realise that I couldn’t give the course my all, in the evening, after a long day. And often I missed what was really important to my kids, like sports days.
So I decided to do something brave (or stupid) and quit my lucrative corporate job for the world of freelance copywriting.
Write about now (and then)
One of the first things I learned is I need stimulus. And, quite often, Skittles. I walk the line between introvert and extrovert – I love research, details, and thinking time, and I need human interaction. I want to meet people, hear their stories, and learn what makes them tick.
While doing the course, I picked up one of my first projects. A new charity museum was opening in Derby and was looking for a local volunteer to help with marketing and PR. As a newly freelance copywriter with FOMO, and a bit of time on my hands, it seemed like a good idea.
I met the founder, Rob, at the museum and took a tour of the computers and consoles of my youth. There was even a poster of an inappropriate childhood favourite, ‘Viz: The Game’, on the wall. It was fate.
Rob was instantly likeable. He talked to me about his family and his passion for the museum. I met some volunteers, including kids from the local SEN school, who do work experience there.
There were some boards on the wall telling the story of Richard McFarlane. After he died 31 years ago, his digital art had languished on corrupted discs in the loft. Rob had painstakingly recovered it for the family just because it was the right thing to do.
That was it. I was in. We agreed on an outline plan, and I set out to create awareness for them.
Several press releases and emails to journalists later, we had a plan, and the press were interested! Derby Telegraph covered the story, then it was shared across social media, including with cult artist Jim’ll Paint It. East Midlands Today came in to film at the museum, BBC Radio Derby booked us in for an outside broadcast the day before launch, and we confirmed magazine articles for the new year.
Freedom (and freelance. Not free)
I loved working with the museum team and the family, finding a unique and timely angle, selling in the story, and supporting them. Finally, this was what I wanted to do!
To get the chance to understand an opportunity or problem and use my writing to persuade an audience to engage with it is absolutely me. I am excited to see them grow bit by bit (pun intended).
My varied career has given me a wealth of knowledge and experience. I’ve enjoyed a fantastic experience working in sales, marketing, food, drink, and hospitality. But, above all, experiences of working with great people.
Now I feel like I am finally free to be myself and chase my dream. And yeah, actually, writing about B2B services, entrepreneurs, pubs and everything in between is a dream for me. Everything is interesting when you are interested.
These are scary and exciting times in equal measure, but what are we if we never take chances? 💪
So, that is the start of my freelance copywriting journey. When did you last take a bold decision? 👇
*many, many days
**muttering swear words
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